


Distraction

by seriouskitten



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Flashing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriouskitten/pseuds/seriouskitten
Summary: An idea came up somehow during chatter around the Campfire. Someone joked about flashing their tits at a Killer to distract them and get away, and they all laughed about it. A couple quips about which ones would be affected and which would just strike you down like it was nothing. It was all in jest, of course. No one in their right mind would attempt to seduce a Killer, right?





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cymorg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymorg/gifts).



After countless trials, certain things became repetitive. Their goal was always the same: Find and fix generators to open the gates and escape, don’t get caught, and try to save those who did. With both Survivors and Killers working to get an edge on their opponent, they learned the areas that the trials took place in intimately and could easily find their way around. Killers learned to check behind every wall and object for someone hiding. Survivors learned tricks for narrow escapes and rescues and began pushing themselves to do more.

Distracting the Killer during a trial could be a huge hand in pulling the game in favor of the Survivors, if done properly. Learning by heart where a window would be for a quick escape was only part of the learning curve. The Survivors began taking note of certain Killer’s habits and weaknesses to figure out how to exploit them. Some of them tended to be slower and easier to run from for a while. Other Killers weren’t so easily fooled, however, and would leave a chase they weren’t winning. The Survivors would have to get creative if they wanted the upper hand.

Meg was good at running trials; it was something she prided herself on. She was one of the few who had been around the longest, and was one of the most experienced. She was especially good at escaping, much to most of the Killers’ annoyance. More than once, the unmistakable siren of the escape gates powering up would give the girl such a surge of motivation, and adrenaline would rush through her, giving her a last-ditch chance of escape from an oncoming Killer. Meg mastered the art of slipping around corners, only to double back and slam a wooden palette on a Killer’s head and dash off. She could get cocky, though, and this trait had the opportunity to cost a deadly price.

An idea came up somehow during chatter around the Campfire. Someone joked about flashing their tits at a Killer to distract them and get away, and they all laughed about it. A couple quips about which ones would be affected and which would just strike you down like it was nothing. It was all in jest, of course. No one in their right mind would attempt to seduce a Killer, right?

* * *

When the mist settled to mark the beginning of the trial, Meg looked around and found herself near the large metal foundry at the Macmillan Estate. Getting her bearings, she began to creep quietly through the grass to look for one of the many broken down generators. Almost immediately her heart rate began to rise.

 _That's unlucky_ , she thought bitterly to herself. The Killer must have started off fairly close to where she did. Meg crouched down quickly and looked around. She willed her body to still and held her breath to listen hard past the blood rushing in her ears. She heard nothing but the faint sound of wind through the grass and trees for several long moments, and then- footsteps.

Meg turned towards the sound and peeked over a wooden crate. She saw a burly figure in the thick mist and as he turned towards her, Meg recognized him as the Trapper. He didn’t seem to notice her, though. The Survivor watched as he bent over to set a trap, and winced at the many memories of them snapping shut around her ankles. The Trapper stood back up and stalked off, oblivious to the Survivor hiding just feet away. Once his footsteps faded and her heart rate calmed, she moved on to the generator near the set trap. It was a good thing she was here to see it set up, otherwise she might have walked right into it.

Meg thought about the Killer as she absently worked on the generator. The Trapper was huge and imposing, and the crude resemblance of a grin on his mask was unsettling. He just looked like a man for the most part until you spotted the sharp hooks of metal permanently embedded in the flesh of his upper right arm. His traps always made trials more nerve wracking, especially when they could be well hidden. Speaking of which, Meg’s head shot up as she heard the distinct, echoing snap of one of the bear traps closing, and then a scream. She sighed. This might be a long trial.

* * *

Meg bolted around a corner and vaulted through a window, narrowly missing the swing of the Trapper’s already bloodied weapon. It

been a long trial, as a matter of fact, and Meg was exhausted. The Killer’s traps had been effective today, which was unfortunate for the survivors. After her first teammate was caught in one and then hooked, Meg abandoned her generator to go retrieve them. As she approached and saw Dwight hanging off the ground, Meg noticed Nea creeping expertly up to the hook, only to get caught in a trap herself. Meg steeled herself as the Trapper came back to the area and picked up the injured girl, then bolted over to get Dwight down while she had the chance. She heard Nea scream as she was inevitably put on a hook, but ignored it as she patched up her other teammate’s wounds. Dwight opened his mouth to thank her, only to be cut off by another distinct  _snap!_ , and then a pained yell. Meg pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Eventually, everyone was unhooked and patched up at the same time, but they only managed to repair one generator. At the moment, the trial was not at all in their favor. They needed time, and Meg found her opening.

The Trapper was nearing her generator, so she waited until the last second and let him see her, then bolted off. Her heart was thunderous in her ears as she ran from him. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure he was following and saw him marching close behind. If she was going to make this chase last a while, she needed some distance and fast.

Around Meg were a few trees and the crumbling remains of brick walls that must have previously stood tall on the Estate’s property. She spotted a toppled palette and quickly slid over the top of it. As her feet hit the ground again she could hear the Trapper’s missed swing smack into the wood of the palette. Meg looked around again and found that they were nearing the huge metal factory that sat in the middle of the trial grounds. She ignored the burning exhaustion in her legs and made her way through the entrance, the Trapper right on her heels.

The foundry groaned in a way that would make anyone else nervous about the structural integrity, but they all knew that these locations were just as stuck in time as the rest of them. Meg wasn’t concerned with it as she hurried around, narrowly evading the Killer behind her. She managed to run him around for several minutes; long enough for her to worry that he would soon abandon the chase. She again ran up the rickety metal stairs along the outside of the building and vaulted through a window into the small room inside. The Trapper would almost definitely take the doorway a few feet from the window, but it might give her a few seconds of-

Meg’s thoughts were cut off as the toe of her shoe hooked on something and she tumbled face first onto the floor. The chest against the wall in the room was slightly askew, like someone had bumped into it, and Meg wasn’t paying enough attention.

 _Fuck_. She chanced a look over her shoulder to the doorway where the Trapper was coming through. Meg scrambled back instinctively onto her rear and looked around. She sat just next to the window she came through, but there was no way she could get to it again in time. The Trapper was already through the door and advancing on her. Meg realized that no other generators had powered up in the time that she had been buying her teammates. It wasn’t enough. The Trapper slowly approached her, no longer in such a rush now that his prey was on the ground before him. They still needed more time.

In a moment of desperation and panic and perhaps sheer stupidity, Meg reached for the zipper at her throat and tugged it down to her navel, revealing her soft breasts to the beast standing over her. Everything seemed to still for an agonizingly long moment. The Trapper stood his ground and Meg didn’t move either. A dull clang made the Survivor blink and look down from the Killer’s mask. He had dropped his cleaver onto the floor. Was… was he surprised? Was that good?

“You… You like that, big guy?” Meg began, uncertain. She arched her back a bit and pulled her top open further, hoping to put on a good enough show to buy her teammates some more time. He seemed to shift on his feet and Meg saw him tilt his head slightly, but he didn’t move towards her. Encouraged, she moved to sit with her legs beneath her and slid her sports top partially off her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” Meg cooed at the beast above her. She didn’t flinch as the Trapper took a step towards her. He stopped and looked around as if he expected the other survivors to jump out of the shadows at any second. Sensing his apprehension, Meg smiled and beckoned him with a curled finger. “None of them are around, I promise.”

Meg winced internally at her words and hoped that she didn’t remind the Trapper of the real task at hand. Instead, he slowly looked back and came to kneel in front of her. Hiding her surprise as well as she could, Meg placed her hands in her lap and leaned forward towards him.

“You can touch me,” She assured more gently than either would have expected. After a moment of hesitation, the Trapper reached out and slid his palm along the side of her face, his fingers threading slightly through her hair. Meg was startled at the softness of the action; she had expected him to shove his hands in her shirt and start groping her right off the bat. This wasn’t bad either, she supposed, and leaned into his calloused hand. She honestly couldn't believe this was working. Now she just had to keep it going for a bit. Meg slipped her top all the way off and let it fall to the ground. She boldly put her hand over his and moved it slowly from her face to her chest. When he didn't pull away she reached for his other hand and placed it on her other breast. God, his hands were huge. He could nearly envelop her entire width with both of them.

The Trapper finally moved, thumbing over the Survivor’s nipples and causing them to harden. Meg released a soft moan at the touch, surprising herself. She didn’t plan for this, but she was nothing if not bold. Seeing how gentle the monster in front of her was being, she couldn’t help but feel invigorated and even a bit excited. It was true that the Entity’s realm was a lonely place to be, and Meg couldn’t remember the last time someone touched her like this. She suddenly didn’t mind keeping the Trapper busy for a while.

The Killer brought a hand back to her face and dragged his thumb along her bottom lip. Meg parted her lips instinctively and watched with heavily lidded eyes. Taking a chance, the Survivor reached up to touch the side of the Trapper’s face, sliding her hand partially under his mask. She was almost surprised to find the skin felt… normal. From this close, Meg could see the man’s mouth through the grin in his mask. She mimicked his movement and brushed her thumb across his lips, noting the scar that slashed across them. His breath seemed to stutter at her touch. Encouraged by the Trapper’s calm demeanor, Meg gave him a smile.

“You wanna kiss me?” She purred and leaned in closer. The girl’s sore feet and aching muscles were pushed to the back of her mind and the trial currently in progress faded away. With the opportunity at hand, Meg was desperately curious to see what the man’s mask hid. As an answer, the Trapper ducked his head until their faces were only inches apart. Meg slipped her hand up the side of his face to the strap of his mask, but hesitated. When he simply sat still for her, she slowly tilted it up to rest on his forehead.

Meg gasped softly as she took in the man’s face. He wasn’t nearly as scary without the gristly mask. He had a broad, straight nose and brown hooded eyes that looked down at her but wouldn’t make contact with her own. A jagged scar cut across his lips diagonally and down his chin. He looked a bit rough around the edges, but otherwise completely normal- not counting the metal protruding from his right arm. The Trapper didn’t move as Meg surveyed him.

“Well aren’t you handsome?” She said with a flutter of her lashes and tipped her head up closer to his. The cool night air chilled her half naked form. Meg shivered and leaned into the hulking man. His hands had fallen absently to her waist and she missed the warmth at her chest. She reached both arms up to drape across his massive shoulders. “You gonna kiss me or not, big guy?”

Meg sighed as one of his hands held her waist and the other pressed at her back. She leaned closer and tilted her head up as he ducked down the remaining space and pressed his lips to hers. She could feel his scar against her lip but it didn’t bother her at all. The Trapper’s mouth was almost hesitant against hers, but Meg was insistent. She kissed him feverishly and he then responded in kind, holding her closer against his chest. Meg sucked at his bottom lip lightly and then kissed from the corner of his mouth down to his neck. With a devious grin she gave the flesh a light bite. The Trapper responded with a gruff sound of approval that sent a tingle down her spine.

Meg felt the man’s arms flex around her and before she knew it she was lifted off the ground. She let out a surprised noise and clutched at the straps of his overalls, but he didn't take her far. The Trapper set Meg down on the closed chest behind her so she was closer to eye level with him. Even still, he was taller than her. Fuck, he was huge. On his knees in front of her and he still was looming. He pressed himself closer and Meg spread her knees wide to make room for him. She attempted to buck her hips against him and the Trapper practically growled at the friction. He dipped her even further back until she bumped against the wall and ground into her. Meg’s thin sports leggings and the Killer’s overalls did little to hide the man’s growing erection as he pressed closer. She keened at the contact and leaned some of her weight against the wall behind her so she could arch back up into him. The Trapper began sucking at her throat as Meg hooked her legs around him the best she could with how big he was.

“Mmh- I can feel you. You’re  _big_ , huh?” she tried to keep her voice steady, holding onto the semblance of power she had over him, but her teasing tone was softened by the way her voice shook and how she stifled little gasps at the man’s motions. Meg imagined how big the Trapper’s cock really was and found that she was more than eager to find out.

She reached down between the two of them and palmed at his clothed dick. The Trapper groaned and bit down on the juncture between Meg’s neck and shoulder. It was enough to make her yelp, but didn’t draw blood.

“Sorry,” she heard him murmur, much to her surprise. His voice was rough and gravely, like it hadn’t been used in a while. It gave her a pleasant shiver.

“Ooh, you  _can_ speak, Mr. Trapper,” Meg breathed. “You have a name?” Perhaps she was toeing the line by asking, but she did already have her legs around his waist and her hand on his groin, so she might as well push her luck. The Trapper was quiet for a moment, grazing his teeth across the Survivor’s smooth, freckled skin.

“Evan,” he finally said, and Meg repeated the name to taste it on her tongue.

“I’m Meg,” she replied and tugged on his overall strap. “Can we get these off, Evan?” He lifted his head from her shoulder and began stripping. Meg sucked on her bottom lip and watched as the man’s wide chest was revealed along with his surprisingly soft looking stomach. She leaned forward as he pulled his clothing down past his hips and his cock finally sprang free.

It was even bigger than Meg had estimated. She lost her sultry expression in favor of one of awe as his dick came into view. After a long moment, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her bottoms and wiggled them down her rear along with her panties, leaning against the wall for support.

“God, I want you to fuck me,” she gasped as she struggled to free her legs from her remaining clothing. The Trapper- or Evan- was stoic above her. He moved back and gently helped Meg peel her pants from her legs and dropped them to the floor beside her sports top. She immediately hooked her legs back around the man and pulled him back in. He braced his hands on the chest on either side of her.

“Please,” she practically moaned, looking down at the fat cock just inches away from her entrance. Evan looked her over. A minute ago the girl was all teasing words and confidence, but now she was nothing but a desperate, squirming mess. Too turned on to be embarrassed, Meg reached down to spread herself for him. When Evan didn’t move she looked up and pouted at him. He was just looking at her, taking in her naked form. Meg thought that he seemed a bit too restrained for her tastes.

“You don’t have to hold back, I can take anything,” She insisted, trying to bring back her seductive air. Her lips curled into a grin and she lightly squeezed his bicep. Meg was certain that she would be unable to circle both of her hands completely around the man’s upper arm. Touching the solid muscle reminded her of when his arms were wrapped around her minutes ago, and the memory prompted thoughts of how he could hold her up while he fucked her.

Meg was torn from her brief daydream when the Trapper pulled away from her completely and sat back on his haunches. She whined at the loss and furrowed her brow.

Before she could question him, Evan began pushing his overalls down his thighs and removing the rest of his clothing along with the mask still atop his head. At this sign, Meg opted not to complain just yet.

The hulking man came back to kneel in front of her, but he was sitting too low now to properly line himself up. Instead, he took her whole thigh in one hand and lightly stroked her vulva with his other. Meg let out a whine and squirmed slightly in his grip. Evan made eye contact as he dipped a thick finger into her.

“Be good,” his deep voice rumbled. Meg blushed hotly at the command and did her best to sit still. Seeming pleased with her response, Evan pressed slowly into her. She bit down hard on her lip as she tried not to squirm, but still moaned at the contact. He began stroking her at a maddeningly slow rhythm, soon adding a second finger. After what felt like forever, Meg arched her back and whined.

“Oh, please, oh my God, please,  _please_ just fuck me,” she said, gripping at the man’s hand around her thigh. She thought she heard him stifle a groan, but couldn’t be sure. He otherwise seemed to ignore her and added a third finger to her soaked cunt. Meg moaned and resigned to sitting back and watching him.

After stretching her to his satisfaction, Evan pulled his fingers out from her and instead used his hand to pump his throbbing cock. Meg watched with barely contained anticipation as he came back up onto his knees and lined himself up with her pussy. As soon as he was close enough, she wrapped her legs around his hips again. She practically sobbed when she felt the tip of his dick prod at her, and when he finally pushed in they both moaned. He curled his massive hands around her hips as he slid into her tight heat. Meg squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand over her mouth as she adjusted to the pressure. When she opened her eyes Evan was leaned in closer over her, watching her expression. Now that she could reach, Meg wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and pulled herself up closer. He couldn’t quite hilt her, but Meg determinedly wiggled her hips down as far as she could. Once he took a moment to compose himself, Evan pulled almost completely out of her and then snapped his hips back into place with a low growl.

Meg  _wailed_. It was all she could do to simply hold on as the man began plowing into her. He dipped down and pressed his face into her neck, using his grip on her hips to set a brutal pace. Meg was pleased to hear the man’s heavy panting and long groans over the sound of her own cries of pleasure. No doubt he was just as pent up as her and almost everyone else here. If Meg could satisfy both of them while also helping out her team, it seemed like a win in her book. Who knows if she'd ever get a chance like this again anyway?

Evan slammed into her a few more times before slowing to catch his breath. Meg quieted and for a moment as well, panting. He slowly moved from his position on his knees to sit properly on his ass, taking Meg with him.

“Get… Getting tired, tough guy?” She teased, breathless. He responded by grinding her hips on his cock, causing her to gasp. She took the quiet moment to look the Trapper over some more. She couldn’t get over how big the guy was. Her legs were spread wide in order to straddle his lap. His entire form seemed to be solid muscle, save for his soft stomach. His arms were probably wider than both of hers put together and she imagined his legs were just as strong. He lifted her with comical ease; Meg imagined that if she wasn’t sitting on his dick he might not even notice she was here.

Oh, right- his dick. Immediately impatient after returning from her thoughts, Meg rolled her hips to get Evan’s attention. When she looked to him, he was already watching her. Had he been the entire time? He held onto her hips again as she moved on him. Meg quickly found her rhythm and held desperately onto to his shoulders as she bounced on his cock.

“Mmm… Fuck, does that feel good?” She said as she got back into it. She reached between their sweaty bodies to rub frantically at her clit. “Ah! Yes! Mmh, are you gonna cum in me?” At the question, Evan’s hips jerked against her, causing a particularly loud smack and a cry from Meg. “Ooh~ You want that don’t you? You- ah! You wanna fill me up?”

A deep growl from Evan and Meg was suddenly on her back. She let out a delighted giggle as he loomed over her, grabbing her hips from off the ground and angling them upward. The new position, Meg soon found, caused the man’s cock to hit a sensitive spot deep inside her at almost every thrust. She was getting fucked before, but the Trapper was absolutely railing her now. Not coherent enough for any words, Meg could only shriek and clumsily rub her clit with shaking fingers. She could feel the coil in her belly ready to snap at any second.

“C-cumming! I’m-” She arched her back and clenched her thighs around him, climaxing with a breathy moan of the Trapper’s true name. Evan seemed to be right behind her. She felt him scoop her into his arms, his hips jerking into hers a few more times before he came with a heavy groan of the Survivor’s name as well.

Meg melted into the embrace, keeping her eyes shut as she bathed in afterglow. She came to when she was shifted in Evan’s arms as he slowly pulled out. She groaned quietly as his cum dribbled from her. He gently deposited her on the floor and sat up, and Meg finally opened her eyes. She lazily watched him turn away and step back into his overalls. She noticed that she didn’t previously get a look at the man’s ass, but it was pretty damn decent. Maybe next time they could-

Hm. Next time.

Fully dressed, Evan collected Meg’s clothes, turned them right-side-out and laid them out on the chest nearby. She almost laughed at the strange gesture. Did he know she was watching? Once he seemed satisfied, the man turned back to Meg and crouched beside her. With a groan- and an awkward moment of avoiding eye contact- she sat up and reached for her top. Evan dug around in his overall pockets and produced a somewhat clean cloth that he then handed to the girl before standing once again. Meg zipped up her sports top and took it from him. Blushing, she used it to clean up the mess on her thighs. How… thoughtful of him.

Once she was fully dressed, Meg saw that Evan had put his mask back on and was simply looking at her. He would have to be the Trapper again now, and she would be a mere Survivor in his trial.

Just as Meg opened her mouth to speak, they heard the telltale sound of a generator being powered up. Then another, and another, until the alarm signaling the exit gates rang in the air. The pair looked at each other for another long moment, and then the Trapper grabbed his cleaver. Meg froze, but the Killer just stalked away. She waited until his footsteps faded, then left in the opposite direction. She made it to the first exit gate she could find and met Nea there.

“There you are! Damn, you need to be patched up?” The other girl asked. Meg hadn’t noticed that she was limping, but it certainly wasn’t from an injury. Playing it as cool as she could, Meg waved her off.

“No, I just… My feet hurt. Long trial.”

Nea laughed, “I bet. You must have been giving the big guy the run around for quite a while. Haven’t heard from either of you in a bit.” Meg paled and looked over Nea for any hint of knowing sarcasm, but she seemed to be genuine. Meg simply shrugged and began the safe walk back to the campfire.

Next time, huh? 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First nsfw fic ever for me!! Please feel free to leave critique but pls be gentle, I am already embarrassed lmao


End file.
